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The Story So Far
Prologue A letter, from Lady Alecto Blackthorne to the Black Sun Councillor, Lady Ealasaid Tallach. 'Writ upon the seventh day of the Strawberry Moon, in the year 1292 of Blessed Asa.'' To the most excellent Lady Ealasaid Tallach, Thane of Tàileach, and Councillor of the South, from Lady Alecto Blackthorne, Thane of Dubdris, and her loyal servant. She, and the warriors of the Third Unit wish for your health and tender their lawful service with all respect and honour.'' On the sixth day of the strawberry moon, on patrolling near the Skovvan border, we met with the first Cohort of the Legion of the Maor Dlí, and soon after encountered a small expedition from the Circle of the Arcane, as well as several members of the Guild of Croesus who claimed to be on a ‘trading visit’ to the South. Whilst we were establishing the reason for their presence, we were approached by a wild and desperate man, who claimed that his village had been attacked. Seeing no reason to waste the extra forces we had encountered, I took charge in Lady Larka’s absence, leading our group towards the column of smoke we could see in the distance. Although the others resolved to cooperate with us, there was still plenty of bickering and arguments as we factions went on our way, which were only halted by our arrival at a burnt and decimated village. We searched for survivors and found a young woman, who seemed panicked and disorientated, as well as a man in the same condition. As acting commander of the warriors unit, I questioned the woman and found her lack of knowledge about the village and surrounding area suspicious. Upon harsher questioning, the woman broke down emotionally, which unfortunately caused me to relent slightly, and using this opportunity, the woman quickly slit my warrior’s throat. Half of the party went in pursuit of the woman, and they captured, trialled and executed her, whilst the other half stayed behind to examine the village whilst I was healed. Meanwhile, the man proved to be working with the woman, and slit the throat of Spyder, the Guild’s unit leader. When everyone was patched up, we decided to head in the direction of our attackers. We were surprised on their way by the arrival of Amontya Faelen of the Circle, who decided to join us in our quest. ' Heading through the woods, we met two mercenaries, who refused to let them pass. Our forces quickly overpowered them and I interrogated them, along with the other unit leaders. As the highest ranking Warrior present, I was left to determine their fate. As they were two young local boys, lured with the possibility of financial support for their families, I gave them a second chance, on the condition that they joined the Warriors of the Black Sun. The two took the opportunity, and headed off towards the nearest Black Sun base, with my promise that I would hunt them down and kill them if they betrayed my trust. Heading further into the woods, the we fended off attacks from more mercenaries. Several of the mages present, when meditating to regain their energy, experienced strange and disturbing visions. Others suffered from strange electrical shocks and tingles the further we travelled, until the hair of many was standing on end or being tugged by a strange force. Cracks began to grown in the alliance of the factions, as many began to display differing opinions of how to question those captured, with many disliking the harsh methods that the Legion seem to prefer, whilst others showed distaste for the work of our own necromancers. '' ''We eventually moved on after making our way through a large number of mercenaries, all of whom seemed to be guarding something. Our forces eventually found their way into a heavily wooded area, where we encountered a large number of foes. Wave after wave attacked us, and the factions fought them all off, until suddenly there was a cataclysmic sound and a robed man appeared from the air, lightning dancing from his fingertips, announcing himself as ‘Lord Thunder’. It was a hard battle, but with an amazing effort, the our combined forces somehow defeated this warrior, and finally we were victorious. However, many were troubled. This man displayed powers which have not been seen for almost a hundred years. We allowed members of the Circle to examine him, whilst others discussed a way to find out answers. It was decided that Lord Anastasius, one of our Black Sun necromancers, would lead a ritual to contact Lady Death, asking for aid. As a tribute, Jugo, one of our finest scouts, offered up one of his eyes as a sacrifice to the Dark Lady. '' ''The mages were successful in summoning Lady Death, who appeared before us in the form of a hooded and cloaked woman. However, she was insulted by the fact that the eye had been damaged during removal, and they were unable to gain much information from her. Furthermore, when closing the ritual, one of the Circle’s mages made a mistake, and several people were injured. We were left to discuss the knowledge learnt from Lady Death, as well as the mage’s visions, and finally the Circle, Guild and Legion headed back to their respective command, no doubt to write letters similar to the one you have just received from me. This is a faithful account of the events that transpired, and I await your command, my Lady. I hope that this letter finds both you and your family in good spirits and good health,'' Blessings of the Gods be upon you. A. Blackthorne' Content by Alessa L. The Search After the discoveries made by the factions, the Council decided to create an expeditionary force formed of units from all four factions, in the hope of improving inter-faction relations. When news of trouble in the east reached the councillors, they decided that it was time to put their new project to the test. Tenth Day of the Hunter’s Moon, 1292 BA ''A missive from Lady Larka, delivered by courier to Lady Jean Grey, High Scribe to the Black Sun Councillor, Thane Tallach:'' '''The courier is left with the strictest instructions that the content of the letter bearing the seal of House Daepad is to be delivered, with haste, directly into the hands of her Ladyship Jean Grey, scribe to Councillor Tallach of the High Council. A small side note is also attached and is shakily handed over to the recipient, along with the letter: ‘Failure to follow my instructions may result in the loss of a finger…or two. Do not tempt my fury, I’ve had a very stressful few days. L.D’. '' To my Lady and friend, Please find enclosed within this letter my missive detailing our encounters during our expedition into the forests of Hunsow. There is much to tell, my friend, and not much time to do it in, after all the Suns have a wedding reception to throw (you will understand soon enough). I hope this letter finds you well, as the Suns will need your support more than ever in the weeks to come, myself included as things grow ever more restless in my homeland, the details of which I shall send in another letter at a later date. Walk strong, my friend and watch your back. L.D P.S. Forgive my sometimes casual writing skills, you know me well enough to know formal isn’t my style. '''Day One ' From the comforts and safety of the city walls, our forces were sent forth into the depths of the Hunsow forest, to find the source of the unrest within... The Black Sun journeyed into the Hunsow forest with the vigour and passion I had missed bitterly in my time away from them, Hell I even missed Anny, stubborn, sarcastic bastard that he is. Please do not let him catch wind that I actually missed him, I’ll never hear the end of it. ''However for all their strength and resilience, the Warriors were not immune to the feeling of dread that fell upon us as we entered the Hunsow, the very air seemed heavy on our shoulders and the unnatural mist hung in the air like a ghoul and groups of lost souls sprang up from the mists, stumbling blindly. As a result some of the least resilient of our large party began to grow weary and their minds wandered from the task at hand. ''An interesting note: Those affected seemed to all be human, myself, Anny and others of Elven origin were initially unaffected, perhaps something to look in to should we ever have need to return. Our Warriors lead the way into the dread Hunsow followed by the Guild of Croseus and the Circle Mages and bringing up the rear were our fine Law keepers of the Legion, never had the colour purple made me feel such a strong sense of indigestion. The Legion’s holier-than-thou attitude and the waggling of their precious rule book has never sat well with me and they hardly approve of our own methods. However despite our differences their strength was highly appreciated in the tests to come…for the most part. Upon entering the forest we were approached by a solitary man cloaked in green who identified himself as ‘The Scholar’ claiming that the disturbances within the forest stemmed from the presence of an artefact. At that time our Scholar friend did not know or did not wish to divulge the nature of the artefact and provided no further information of the matter,'' how irritating. Although our interests appeared to be the same, something did not appear trustworthy about this man, a fact that even dear, simple Leofric could tell. However these fears were quietened by the bustling of the Legion, keen to help out any stranger who jumps out of the mist. The party were lead through the woods into a nearby clearing in Krefter, a safe enough vantage point positioned well out of the reach of the thickening mist. Our Scholarly friend, although thoroughly unhelpful in terms of the artefact itself, did tell us of a clue within our camp. Within no time, I discovered a small roll of parchment which pointed us to our first destination: The Crossroads. I passed on this information to Spyder; the Guild and the Warriors had worked together in the past with great success and Spyder was one of the few outside the Warriors who had earned my trust. With our first clue in hand, I collected a small, fast-moving unit to locate the Crossroads. Jack, Leofric and Magne were left in camp to keep the others in check and cover our disappearance. At the Crossroads, Merryn uncovered our next clue, another rolled up parchment with nonsensical words upon it. ''Reminder: Send for Alecto’s old tutor and arrange lessons for Merryn, if the girl’s going to receive messages she’d better know how to read them properly. ''The clue pointed us toward the Silvian Gate the quickest route to which was through a rather lovely sounding route known as The Bone Pit, much to the delight of my necromancer friend. The delight that was the Bone Pit, lived up to its name, bones, bones everywhere and not a drop to…fuck, who am I kidding? I can’t write poetry. There was a heaviness in the pit, something pushing down on us. Skeletal fingers of countless lost souls reached out toward the Silvian Gate, as if willing us to move swiftly. Then I heard a voice within the mist, something was calling to me and as we continued the voice became louder and more urgent. Then I stopped. I heard it even clearer this time, a voice I had not heard in many decades, a voice that froze my very soul. And there she was, as clear as daylight, my mother. My friend, you know I rarely succumb to my inner grief, but she was warm and real. It has been at least thirty years since the ‘accident’ as the Elves dare to call it, but in that moment I was a child again and wanted nothing more than to be with my mother as she pulled me further into the silent comfort of the mist. Suddenly the dream was gone and I was bound by Anny’s spell and pulled back to the safety of the path, after which my mind cleared. For all our arguing Anny and I owe the other our lives many times over and once again he proved what a loyal friend he is to me. ''He can never hear of this. We continued on with haste, feeling the influence of the mists on our senses as we approached the Silvian Gate. Once there Merryn uncovered another clue, but by this time the mists had taken their toll on us; clouding our vision, mimicking the forms and voices of our memories in an attempt to steer us from the path. In the midst of the confusion, we lost our way along with two of our clues, yet the torments continued. Delightful, this forest just kept getting better and better. ''Somehow we found ourselves on the path back to our camp, but at this point my stomach felt worse than the morning after my Black Sun induction, ''and that was bad, you’d remember. Something definitely had it in for us in that damned forest. We eventually stumbled back into camp, and I vomited in front of my companions. However as I looked up to see that the unfortunate recipient of my vomit was a purple-clad law keeper, my embarrassment melted away into laughter. If you ask me, the colour of his shoes was vastly improved by my contribution.' The humour of the moment was short-lived, to my horror I found that my remaining men were nowhere to be found. The other factions informed me that the men, out of their loyalty and worry for my safety and that of Alecto, ventured into the mists after us. Returning to the Bone Pit was too dangerous at the time, all that could be done was wait for the men to follow our tracks back to the camp. Although Leofric was new to our ranks, I was confident that Magne and Jack, both capable fighters, would see them safely back. Thankfully, within a short time the three returned, but something was amiss. Rather than re-joining us in the protection of the camp, they refused, claiming that we were in danger and Mange implored us to join them outside the camp perimeter. It was clear to see that they were not themselves; the usually resilient and hearty Mange seemed unusually shaken, even the calm face of Jack betrayed a glimpse of agitation. Like us, the mist had clearly taken their toll on them and clouded their minds, but their loyalty bid them to protect us from an unseen threat. No words could sooth their agitation, no command could force them to move, so calmly I passed the threshold and joined the men bidding them to disarm, no luck. They were subdued quickly and brought back into camp and upon awakening their minds seemed clearer, although they remembered little of our encounter. I’m glad, I’m certain Mange would want to give me a matching bruise to the one on his head, sorry my friend. '' '' ''After bringing the Warriors back into the safe confines of the camp and relaying what information we remembered back to Spyder, the Black Sun relaxed, for once. The strain the mists had left on us, both physically and mentally made us unfit for travel for a short time, so the men were ordered to rest while members of the other factions continued the investigation. During our respite in camp, we witnessed several lost souls stumbling past, seemingly drawn to our presence, some were armed, putting the camp on edge. The poor sods had no idea what was going on yet something compelled them to enter our camp, ''a poor decision. ''As soon as they stepped into the confines on the camp, the creatures cried out in agony, especially those closest to the ritual circle (that had been cast while we were gone) and in their pain, they struck out against us. The Legion subdued two of the creatures and bound them to a nearby tree for questioning. It was a futile task in my opinion, the one that would talk was in utter confusion and talking gibberish and the other poor soul was so weak from pain he could barely move, let alone answer any of our questions. Upon the advice of Jack, I gave the order for it to be put out of its misery. Jack ended its life cleanly and with the utmost compassion, much to the anger of the Legion and Lady Spyder, but they soon calmed and saw reason; no one deserved to live in that pain. After that catastrophe, we mostly ignored the lost souls knowing that they could not enter our camp easily. A disturbance at the edge of camp drew our attention; a young woman in distress approached us, seeking our protection from the men following her. Alecto, with her kind and curious heart, took the girl under our protection ad soon deciphered from her panicked words that she was being followed after accidentally setting her home on fire by means of her uncontrolled magic. No sooner said, two purple-clad figures approached, one was a cataphract no less, ''oh joy, ''the men accused us of harbouring a wanted murderer. What followed was a blur of shouting, rule books being shaken and the Circle mages frantically trying to protect one of their own from an unjust punishment. The Black Sun took a step back, ''apart from Alecto…ever the diplomat, ''this was not our fight and I was not willing to risk all-out conflict with the cataphract. Although admittedly, even our own purple companions jumped to the defence of the mage, attempting to talk down their comrades, ''I’m glad it wasn’t just me who though he was a royal arse. ''In the midst of the chaos, the mage ran for freedom with Jack and Alecto covering her escape…it seems The Black Sun had chosen their side and Anny and I had no choice but to follow. As we reached them, an unarmed Alecto was struck by the renegade cataphract, and panic gripped me. Alecto has fought by my side for many years, but it never gets easier to watch her come to harm. Panic boiled into rage and while a medic saw to Alecto, Anny and I confronted the bastard who dared to harm her and had we been given the chance we would have torn out his entrails and shown them to him. No such chance was given to us. The men escaped our wrath, but for once the Legion agreed with us; the cataphract had to be brought to justice. We agreed to their terms ''for now; should the bastard return with anyone other than his superior- he’s ours, his head will look lovely hanging from a tree. ''Despite our agreement with the Legion, I informed the men in private that should they happen to come across this cataphract and he is alone, and they are certain of their skills as killers, then he is to be ended and disposed of. No slight against The Black Sun will go unpunished. ''Blood will have blood. ' The following section of my report was…surreal, to say the least. If the ink appears smudged, it is simply from the tears of laughter at recalling this event''. A stranger approached the camp, upon closer'' investigation he did not appear hostile. The stranger was one, Sir Gerald of Fedora and he claimed to have vital information that would aid in our search for the artefact, but it came at a price. Usually I am not one for negotiations, but I was curious. Sir Gerald was a sentimental chap; his price for the clue was marriage to a member of our party, so that he may find comfort in a family in his old age. We were unprepared for such an unexpected demand and many immediately rejected the idea, but the clue Sir Gerald held was vital to our search. I was quietly suggested as a potential candidate, however not only am I not currently interested in marriage, but as a landed Lady with a vast estate, and yes, I am still a royal despite what the Elves say, ''I would be marrying down. Then Leofric, dear, sweet, simple Leofric came into my head as a perfect candidate; the boy came from poverty, but marrying the Knight would give him lands and money. Although I am unsure if Leofric really understood what I was asking of him, he agreed to the match. Through my fits of laughter, I conducted a short ceremony and pronounced them married, ''although I need to make sure Leofric doesn’t try to sell or, our Lady forbid, eat his wedding ring. '' Sir Gerald gave us our clue and left, with not so much as a goodbye kiss for his new partner. Should Leofric grow tired of Sir Gerald, the Black Sun have made it clear that he is welcome to have a contract taken out on his new husband, Leofric is one slit throat away from being a wealthy man. ''Before I forget, please find enclosed an invitation to the wedding party, which will be something you will not want to miss. Poor Leofric is in for a huge surprise when it is time to consummate his marriage, I’m not sure he even knows what it means! '' '''Note for the courier: Send word to my estate in the north to prepare five barrels of the good red to be shipped out to my location, plus a few bottles of those Elven Schnapps. Our party joined together to decipher the clues we had and they all pointed us to the same location: The Bone Pit as if I hadn’t already had my fill. ''The camp gathered themselves and set off back into the mists, but the strange forces of the forest were just as insistent at making our task difficult as they were before. The spectres even got to Magne, who I had to draw my blade on to prevent him wandering into the mist. The spectre of my mother followed me as we journeyed, calling to me and I was close to losing myself again, but with Magne’s encouragement and rousing war song to lift our spirits, I stayed strong. After the difficult journey, we arrived at a clearing in the Bone Pit, but something clearly did not want us there. The Guild located out next clue which spoke of Nitphil and there were talks of summoning the god. Bad idea! The Warriors know better than to meddle in the affairs of any god. Look what happened last time! ''Anny, I’m looking at ''you! '' Once back at camp, there were still plans to summon Nitphil, an idea which the black Sun argued against, but to no avail. Dearest Julie began conducting the ritual, which I stayed as far away from as possible''. This entity agreed to aid us in our'' task, for a price no surprises there, ''Nitphil demanded that a favour was to be promised by one of us, to be redeemed at a later date. Knowing the risks of making deals with gods, the Black Sun refused, but Urbicus of the Guild offered himself up. It was at this precise moment that Julie made his most grand mistake to date, he lowered the damned circle wards with the entity still within, ''good job Julie. The pact was made, the clue handed over and the ritual ended, then the shit storm situation took a turn for the worst. It seems this Nitphil managed to release some of its influence outside of the circle when it had been opened. Several members of the party began acting strangely and hallucinating, I was not spared from the madness. Once I began seeing flowers growing from the heads of my comrades, I lost all composure. Nothing has the power to bring me to fits of crying-laughter than seeing daffodils growing from Anny’s head.' Our final clue lead us to a site not far from camp, a statue of the Princess Anara. Once the chaos died down we made our way to the statue with haste. With the help of the Circle, the source of all of our troubles was finally uncovered, in the form of an old book. We thought ourselves victorious and made ready to return to the city, but unfortunately, life doesn’t like to be so fair. In an instant the entire party was paralysed, but my eyes saw clearly, that green cloaked prick, after getting us to do the hard work, swooped in a stole the book from our grasp and disappeared. I do not enjoy being stolen from, so naturally I was pissed off, what didn’t help was Anny getting a magic boner over the Scholar’s powerful necromancy skills''.'' As night fell there was little we could do but return to the city empty handed, although the Warrior’s rage was great they needed rest and time to plan our next course of action, I knew mine- giving that Scholar a swift kick and a second smile.' ''Here Lady Larka's Missive ends.'' Content by Georgia B. Eleventh Day of the Hunter’s Moon, 1292 BA ''The second day of the excursion is recounted by Magne of The Warriors of the Black Sun in the following missive:'' '''Of Bones, and Blood Day Two ''' Compelled by coin, and most would argue against all reason, when morning came we steeled ourselves and ventured back into that foul hell, a march that was beset by madness, as much as dread; for the longer we spent in the Hunsow's heart, the deeper its roots drank of our sanity. First it teased us with trickery, unveiling a banquet with which to break our fast, but as the mages examined this feast, objects began to wreak havoc upon their senses. Innocuous as they were innocent, black-hued bears bore dark secrets, children's trinkets which surged with energy and sapped the air of its warmth. Naturally I, being of the Velsek tribe, felt little of this potential the mages discussed, for our woad sigils shield us from such sinister spells, but when a chest was unlocked the force of its vehemence caused even me to stagger, as a lawkeeper's lust loosened its latch. The merchants saw the situation for what it was though, and offered up one of their own in payment to the God of trickery, who i'm told requested a boon from the portly pilgrim, to be collected at a time of their choosing. This appeared to appease the deity's desires, at least for now, and so the dweomer that defiled the picnic dispersed, leaving us to reap the fruit of the merchants' labours, a fitting return for the safety our swords provided them on this expedition. It wasn't long, however, before the forest struck again, restless as waves ravaging a distant shore, because hordes of foes spewed forth from the brambles of its maw, figures who, once felled, returned anew through some necrotic thirst. Girding the Lady Larka, whilst Leofric and the mages sought the scholar's trail at the shrine where we had lost it, my blade sung loudly for a time, as corpse and claw alike broke upon the bulwark of my shield. As it turned out, these deathless demons were but a distraction though, as somewhere within Hunsow's black heart the scholar mustered his might, gathering power for the battle to come, for he knew the Black Suns would not relinquish the artefact to him, not until our lives had set and dusk swallowed dawn. Eventually the mages finally prevailed in their task, summoning the Suns from the shelter of camp to bolster their companions about the shrine of Anara once more, for it seemed that the scholar had escaped our clutches before through a portal. Pursuit was inevitable, I suppose, but the energies they unleashed when they rent reality asunder were terrifying to behold, as a door bled into being, and the expedition leapt into its crackling confines, vengeance hot as blood on their lips. I cannot say how long we journeyed through that aether, assailed by winds that howled like Fenris, as the heavens wept and worlds flashed before our eyes, but when we emerged from that passage my blade stood ready, searching for a foe to fell. That was when the darkness came, as factions faltered and death stalked amongst us like a plague, threatening to smother souls less stout than I, as the Necromancer's spawn attacked. Amidst the cacophony of battle though, and the chaos that ensued, I saw a knight of bile and bone, a titan whose blows sent lawkeepers scurrying like rats, before the fire of its gaze. Where most men would quail, however, I rejoiced, for here finally was a foe worthy of my strength. We clashed as thunder, our weapons echoing like an avalanche upon the mountainside, each warrior seeking to snatch victory from the broken jaws of the next. Despite the ardour with which we fought, death would not claim us that day, for even as the knight crumpled beneath a flurry of blows, it lurched to life once more, like a veritable Lazarus from the grave it came, besieging my shield with such ferocity that my wrist begun to buckle and then break. Before it could inflict further injury, however, the scholar drew into view, chased toward me as much by fate as my companions, who lay broken and bleeding throughout the reaches of the copse. I surged into motion then, my opportunity seized and my sword swinging savagely, assaulting the Necromancer with a storm of steel, before finally they fell, their sorcery silenced by the fury of my war-cry, as I vanquished the fiend and cleansed the forest of their evil, once and for all. '''Epilogue United beneath a common cause, this was not the first time that the four factions had triumphed against seemingly insurmountable odds, but whilst the journey for some ended that day in the Hunsow, those that survived were forever changed by the events that unfolded there, from a search that yet stains their souls. Here Magne's Missive ends. Content by John H.